Photograph
by Miss. Jenetari
Summary: [oneshot] A gentle sort of serenity had washed over him when he had seen the soft look in her eyes, yet a faint pang had tugged at his chest. He wished she had looked like that at him. [implied RaixKim, onesided JackxKim]


**Title:** Photograph  
**Summary: **A gentle sort of serenity had washed over him when he had seen the soft look in her eyes, yet a faint pang had tugged at his chest. He wished she had looked like that at him.  
** Pairing(s):** Implied RaixKim, one sided JackxKim.  
**Disclaimer(s):** Don't own XS. Never will.  
**Notes: **First story focusing 'round Jack. I was toying with the idea of him actually despising Rai 'cause of Kim, and all wanting revenge, wanting to kill, etc, etc. But I think that's a little… -cough- OOC, so I decided on this.

**Photograph**  
_By Miss. Jenetari._

She really was something.

The first time he had set his eyes upon her, he knew instantly that she was the one. She had merely glanced at him for half a second, yet his brain had absorbed her image in, etching each curve, each shade of brilliant color in his memory. The image was still burned in his mind, yet sometimes, it would flicker, or blur ever as slightly as the days went on, until at last, it had melted away into a memory, and nothing more.

He was scared at first. Scared that he would never see her face again, scared he might never watch her rich, black hair tied into pigtails bounce with each step she took, never again smile as a grin played across her face as they successfully win a battle. Perhaps that was why he'd deliberately go a little easier against them in a showdown; push the opponent towards a tiny, almost insignificant detail that would result them winning, or gloat just a little too much, revealing just a little too much information. Just to see her face; her happy, triumphant face.

He had tried talking her into coming over; as friends, to play a video game, or catch a movie. But she'd always stare at him as if he had grown fungus on his face, and refuse his offer with a snort. She never took him serious; yet who did? Not at all disheartened, he had persisted and persisted until he went to the lengths of having her replaced by his chameleon bot. He knew he had gone too far then; the usual fiery passion in those clear blue eyes was replaced with a fierce fury when she had sat in the large cage. Softening, he had quickly disabled some anti-virus and security programs, enabling her to perhaps send a virus or two into his computer. He had lost data, but it had all been worth it in the end, he supposed.

Sometimes, when he was feeling a little tired of machines, he would settle himself in a comfortable position, and recollect that day when the four dragons and him had settled down in an ice-cream parlor for some frozen treats. The two of them had ordered strawberry; his, and supposedly her favorite. He had grinned at the likeness, and was it his imagination when he had saw her grin back?

He had taken a few photographs as well; some consisting of the five of them, a few of just her, and one; a precious one where he had persuaded the young monk to take a snapshot of him and her together, with their matching strawberry ice-creams. He'd bring it out sometimes, and grin at the memory, a dull, lovesick ache thudding in his lonely heart.

He leaned against his cushioned chair, the back tilting back slightly as he gazed up at the ceiling. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, rejection. Somewhat by his parents, the cranky ghost, fellow villains, other girls… yet for some reason it hurt when he had seen the way she had looked at a certain Dragon of the Wind. Well, hurt more than usual. The said Dragon had congratulated her on a recent showdown, and she had gazed up at the Brazilian, a tinge of pink appearing on her pale cheeks, and he had grinned back, all else forgotten. A gentle sort of serenity had washed over him when he had seen the soft look in her eyes, yet a faint pang had tugged at his chest. He wished she had looked like that at him. Yet deep, deep down inside, he knew it would have happened all along.

He raked his fingers through his reddish orange hair; or was it orangey red? Letting a sigh escape his lips, he swung himself around the chair absent mindedly. If situations had been different, would she have liked him? If he had been picked to be a dragon, and the Brazilian a villain, would he have captured her precious heart? The swirling of his chair stopped. Probably not. Why would she have fallen for a pale, scrawny robot-obsessed teen like him, when there was a perfectly suitable tanned, athletic guy over there? He had everything; the looks, the charm, the personality. No wonder the Japanese girl had fallen for…

The boy genius blinked tiredly. He ought to be working on his newly designed robot, but for some reason he didn't want to. It was happening more and more often now, his reluctance to do what he thought he loved.

Rising from his chair, he cast a last glance around him. Robots, computers, technology… was it really what he wanted? Was she enough to steer him out of his evil ways, enough for him to join the fight for good?

His eyes flickered towards the photograph lying on his desk.

Maybe. Maybe not.

He exited the room, and walked into the sunshine, stretching his arms. Perhaps, he decided, he'd think about it some other time.

_-fin._


End file.
